


Mariana + Culinary School AU

by orphan_account



Series: "It never did run smooth" [1]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Awkward first encounters, F/M, First Meetings, Library scene, Light Angst, Lofe, Love/Hate, Potionless - Freeform, Roland and goons, Spanish Marianne AU, alternate universe - culinary school, strange magic au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 20:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4151832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Conflict cuisine! The universal experience of love and food (because why not?) Culture clash and a spunky Mariana that doesn’t mind stepping over some boundaries, playing dirty and driving everyone nuts.</p><p>AU with a Spanish Marianne as student, Bog as head chef for the Uni’s Dark Forest restaurant and her strict professor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You don't stand a chance

**Author's Note:**

> I thought it would be fun to have Marianne be Spanish and Bog stay charmingly Scottish in this AU. Don't hate me too much :)
> 
> She has the qualities we know and lofe her for, but being from a different culture implies major character changes as well. Of course she’s still tough, headstrong and erratic, but also far more flirtatious and hot-blooded. Just take a second to picture a flirtatious Marianne during the Straight On fight. Good? Now keep that in mind for the Love/Hate relationship to come.
> 
> Location: prestigious culinary school in (most likely Southern) England. Culinary schools are usually divided into bakery and pastry/normal cooking/business management, and this one isn’t any different. 
> 
> Bog Kingsley is head TA of the Honors class for the “normal cooking” culinary section and also currently head chef for the Dark Forest Restaurant managed by The Fields Uni. 
> 
> Mariana del Bosque is a transfer student into his class from the bakery section and her father, Prado, is an internationally recognized chef. You'll see that Bog meets her before though, complicating things a bit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First meeting. Light fluff, but mostly awkwardness.

“Don’t ye have someplace better to be?” His voice shrill and hinting desperation, eager to be left alone again as was his custom. _The library is quiet at night for a reason…_

“Shh! I told you I can’t be seen. Do you not understand English?” said a light female voice in a frantic whisper behind the private study room door.

The tired man at the desk gave a light chuckle in his throat at her deep accent. He was slightly curious to see who was perturbing his nocturnal routine, but not enough to actually turn around and face her. His eyes were fixed between his laptop screen on the left and an open “Chemistry for Cooking” book to his right.

“This is the last story of the _librarae_ and it’s a private study room. “Private” means not playing midnight hide and seek like the rest of you Freshman _girlae_ and bludy  _workin_ ’…”, a little hand abruptly covered his mouth before he could finish. His menacing words dissipated but he grew more irritated at the strange childlike figurine behind him he hadn’t even had a chance to see yet.

“Pleeeaaase sir. Your voice is very loud!” _Sir?_ , he thought, _how old did she think he was?_ Her tongue rolled as she pronounced her “r”s, sending slight shudders through his body but not enough to keep him from clenching his hands into fists.

She whispered something apologetically that sounded like “I _don’t_ hide but please…” Ignoring whatever she was going to say, he pulled her arm away hoping to spin her around and kick her out himself. She saw his intention and pulled her tiny wrist away in a reflexive motion, catching him momentarily off guard.

He was standing now, eying her fully from head to toe with a scrutinizing gaze as she backed away a couple steps. His signature scowl always worked to distance others, and her retreat seemed to be the proof of that once more. But…she wasn’t backing away in fear. She seemed to only retract momentarily to assess him from the other side of the small enclosed space, only the length of a Persian carpet separating them.

For a moment he really thought he had scared her off, had shown her the lesson in respect she seemed to need when dealing with strangers. A sly smile spread across his face at the thought of a successful scare. After all, who in their right mind disrupts people in the library past midnight? And just cups a stranger’s face? Her rudeness boggled him but at least she would leave now.The thought made him feel a little too smug and he almost turned around to get back to his studying, until he saw her light brown eyes staring at him intently.

They weren’t inspecting him like his bright blue eyes had done to her, they were just innocent little eyes of curiosity. He was so tall and thin, with long legs and arms, broad shoulders and what appeared to be a tiny waist under a worn and disheveled dress shirt. His dark brown hair was tossed back and had a strangely fixed and oily shape as if he hadn’t showered in a while.

At that thought she approached him a little more to double check if her guess was correct.Taking three small steps, she sniffed in an almost theatrical manner by scrunching her nose then smiled up at him. She was right. Damn she was good.

The emotions on his face went from annoyance to confusion in the span of those three baby steps. His arms reflexively went up as she approached him while he looked down. She seemed to be half his height…What on earth was she? Whatever creature it was, its smile angered him terribly for a reason he couldn’t understand. His composure stiffened but his only reaction was to frown.

“Don’t be so mad Englishman,” she chuckled playfully, bizarrely proud of how she guessed his lack of hygiene, “ _soy Sherlock, eso es todo_.” At that, a little noise could be heard from outside. She twirled slightly to turn her attention back to the door, peering into the hallway with one eye through the keyhole.

_Englishman…Englishman?_ he moved the words around in his head while mouthing them, teeth gritted as his furor grew. She had her back turned to him at that moment, not able to see his eyes burn, his back hunch predatorily, nor his quick two-step stride to reach her at the doors. Large bony hands pushed against the door-frame, catching her in between his arms with his face defiantly above hers and staring her down threateningly.

He took her arm and turned her around forcefully so that she could see the anger on his face. See if she dared laugh at it. See the prison he had just made with his looming figure, trapping her and forcing her stare back. Scare her off, just frighten her back into whatever tiny creature she was meant to be.

“Que te pasa??”

“You know damn well lassy”

“Nooo. No I don’t.” Her “no” wasn’t even trying to sound English, making his snarl worsen despite himself.

“I’m no **_BLUDY_** Englishman, ye hear?! I’m a damn **_Scot_** ye stupid child! Can’t ye hear the damn _difference_ or are ye deaf?” he yelled straight in her face. The words just blurted out. It wasn’t particularly why he was angry, though it did bother him immensely, but he was exhausted and just really wanted to put her in her place. Yelling tended to relax him.

Her eyes closed momentarily when he bellowed and her breathing grew a touch heavier. He noticed her large beady brown eyes immediately change once they opened again, but he didn’t move and kept her in that awkward position between his two hands clasped in fists at the door. “Just apologize and leave me lass” he said towering over her menacingly.

At that, something unexpectedly appeared to snap. Her lips pursed. She was no longer grinning like she had been since entering the room, or even had the faintest smile lines or dimples on her cheeks anymore. The big brown eyes with batting eyelashes tightened into a frown with her pronounced black eyebrows. Her cheeks however, flushed slightly.

“Dejame…let me go, sir” she retorted coldly. The lack of emotion in her voice and her answer surprised him a little. Nonetheless he maintained his cool composure and faked a light snort, saying “what was that?”, bending his elbows further into the stance, his face approaching her even more in order to frighten her. She leaned back at that in response as he thought _I won…_

…until what appeared to be an evil little smirk appeared from the corners of her lips. That’s when his facial features softened and he retreated his face slightly in confusion, but she only approached him more to close in on any remaining distance between them. Her arms draped around his neck easily since he was so bent over her, though that was far from his intended purpose of choosing that stance. He still had his wits about him and was about to shove her away, but stopped when she spoke.

“Oh. _Perdon_ ,” she said nonchalantly,”can you not tell I am not from the Kingdom United? You are all very… how we say… _picky_ about regions? Oh.” The sarcasm in her tone was so obvious it almost sounded like she was mocking him, but he didn’t notice it.

His electrifyingly blue eyes looked at hers in a daze. Somehow he couldn’t use his traditionally logical behavior to shove her through the door, as was his original plan. He wanted to part from her small arms around his neck, wanted to throw her out and lock his door so he could get back to work, to forget about this night despite it still being early for his internal clockwork… But she was keeping him back.

Her light touch running down the back of his shirt, caressing the nape of his neck, forearms pressed heavily on his collarbones as he felt her unexpected amount of arm strength. A pressure that felt almost possessive if it weren’t for her fingertips smoothly rubbing his skin and playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

His wandering thoughts momentarily retreated back to reason, dully convincing himself that he just couldn't lay a finger on her. _She looks like she’s sixteen…_ he had originally thought because of her height and thin figure. However looking at her closely from her height, she now seemed far older. Not as old as he was of course, but definitely not a child. _Focus Bog. She's still a student. Still a student...._

Her face may have been round but it wasn’t a baby face. Her lightly blushing cheeks were somehow more pronounced because of her dark bags, and though her nose was like a cute button he found it oddly endearing. He hated cute but it somehow…worked. It worked on her. The big brown eyes were shaped with dark eyeliner and mascara as well some deep purple eyeshadow, a similar mauve to that of her lips. They were contoured just enough to make her skin glow in the dim light of the antiquated library lamps staring at them from two opposing corners of the mahogany tainted room.

Catching him staring at her lips, she playfully licked the bottom one and opened her mouth slightly, a little gulp escaped him at the sight and he was unable to hide it in time. Hearing it made her smirk, so she leaned over and whispered softly into his ear: “do you accept my apology, Mr Kingsley?”. A shudder went through him as she tussled his hair, awaiting a reply.

“Y…yes…That’s fine…” he answered and let his hands unclench, slowly glide off the door…to embrace her…

“ _Ah, me alegro!_ ” She said aloud, hands on his shoulders and nudging him slightly away. She turned her back on him again as she continued to peer through the keyhole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Mariana. She sure knows how to play with what she's got at least. Please let me know what you think, it really means a lot whether good or bad! ^.^


	2. What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How willing is Bog to participate in "hide and seek" ?

He groused to himself over what had just happened. _What **had** just happened?_ And was he really about to embrace that…that _thing_? No. he wasn’t in his right mind at the moment. He was just trying to understand what she was saying because her accent was so ludicrously _thick_ and strangely uplifting….no _not_ uplifting it was upsetting it was _upsetting_ …that he felt the need to get closer to understand what she was saying. After all she did apologize. She had, hadn’t she? what was she apologizing for exactly...?

 

After regaining composure he managed to let out another irritated: “Why.are.you.here?” without moving from the spot where she left him. He had rearranged his hair with his fingers and fixed his shirt even better than it was before she had entered the room. Of course she didn’t turn around to acknowledge the effort with her eyes fixed on the hallway. She dared open the door ever-so-slightly and answered “I told you I am hiding”.

His anger from earlier reappeared.

“I am not inter’sted in playin’ hide-and-go-seek girlae,” he noticed the thickness in his accent and tried to muster some control over it, “now go. Unlike ye I have work to do and…”

He was caught off guard when she pounced back at the sound of a male voice trailing down the hallway. Doors were heard opening and slamming shut with the same voice getting closer and closer. Her mumbling turned into obvious curses he didn’t understand but somehow felt through her transmitted anger. She was frowning again but in a much more worried manner. 

" _Mierda mierda mierda hijo de mala madre.._."

Separating herself from the doors she began to pace, stopped, looked around, and pleaded “Please…please please **_please_** hide me! I promise I will leave!”

He looked at her even more befuddled. She seemed to have so much control before, he couldn't believe she could even be asking for help. But her face and seeing her plead worried him. _Who the hell is she hiding from?_

“Fine,” his agreement put a huge grin on her face, “ _but_ I don’t see what ah’m getting out of it. And how am I supposed to hide you ? There are no closets here.” He motioned the room with his outstretched hands. Her frown reappeared as she looked around frantically: under the desk, by the bookshelves nailed in place, even behind the thin lamps just in case. She looked at the desk again and motioned to him quickly, the door slamming noises approaching.

“Mariaaana darlin’? Come on buttercup, we’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you!” A shudder went through her and her face clearly irked at the sound of that voice.

She kept motioning to her accomplice but was clearly not getting through to him.

“You sit and look mean, I hide!” she said and ran under the desk with the little leg room. The old drawers on both sides of it made the space look darker so she could blend in a little better with the shadows. He looked at her in annoyance but nonetheless obeyed and sat down, muttering and gritting his teeth trying to ignore the fact he was the one being bossed around for once. _Thank God no one is here to see this_ he thought to himself.

His legs could barely fit in the space when there wasn’t already a lump of a fairy so he just spread them beside the chair.

“What are you doing?? He’ll see me _entre la silla_ if you sit like this!”

“Well my knees aren’t going to be permanently damaged on your account.”

“My…count? He is not a count he is a student here just like me.”

“No, no I said on your account. _Because of you!_ ”

“Ahhhh ya veo. _Perdon_ but he must not see me.”

His legs spun suddenly and were holstered together in front of the chair. She had obviously moved back as far as humanly possible in the space to make room for him. Either that or she morphed into the tiny animal she really was. The second option seemed more likely to him given her sprite-like character.

The door was swung open by a man clad in casual dark dress pants and a perfectly pressed collar shirt. He yelled out “Roland, there’s someone here!”

A little groan came out from under the table, thankfully only noticeable by the tall man sitting in a slump of irritation at the desk. He looked over his shoulder and pretended not to know what the well dressed man was looking for.

“Get out” was all he wanted to waste his breath saying.

A somewhat taller and more built man then approached his friend, two more tagging along that looked nearly identical to the first. _Didn’t get the memo about a dress code_ , Bog thought while chuckling to himself.

The taller one had bright blonde wavy hair and a dashing smile. Both looked bleached. _Can you bleach teeth?_ he thought absentmindedly.

“Hello my good man,” a cracked Southern accent came through his words,”I was wonderin’ if you've seen a beautiful little lady pass by here. She’s my sweetheart and we just had a little squabble, then she left runnin’ off! Didn’t even give me chance to explain myself! Strangest thing she is.”

“You know how girls are!” said one of the friends.The four of them laughed at that like it was some inside joke shared by all men of the same species.

If it was, it didn’t humor the one they were intruding upon. His stare grew colder by the second and his back started to stiffen, showing just how big he was compared to the chair. The triplets stopped laughing and looked at their friend.

“Um..Roland...”, he stopped laughing and looked at the menacing figure in the chair.

“Right. So anyways have you seen her?”

“Seen who?”

“My sweetheart of course! Name's Mariana.”

“Does she have flowing blonde hair and pale skin?” he sneered.

“N…no. Not at all. Unless she got herself a disguise to throw us off!” his friends gasped when he said it with over-dramatization, “which is why we can’t find her!”

The triplets made an “ohhh” noise in unison, then Roland raised a hand “wait a minute: she isn’t that clever. She would never come up with such a sophisticated plan…”

The little lump squirmed under the table as if to leave, obviously angered. The man in the chair kicked it lightly as a warning. He was still annoyed he had to deal with this when he didn't even know who she was, but an odd instinct started to arise in him. He was now a little afraid of her getting caught if it meant talking to these bozos, and even more so so late at night. 

“Why did you say flowing blonde hair with pale skin? Did such a lovely thing pass by this stingy place without our noticing?” Roland said twirling his blonde bangs.

“Well, women _do_ tend to enjoy the silence of a library as much as any other individual” his teeth gritted once more but the group understood the hidden meaning.

“Oooookay. We’ll be on our way then if you haven’t seen Mari! Right fellas?” they nodded “BUT do tell us which way that blonde beauty you say went? Be a sport!” 

Her accomplice snickered, for some odd reason enjoying this far too much.

“But of course gentlemen. Go down the hallway, turn right and it will be the second door to your left.” They turned to go.

“Take about three steps in, turn a 90 degree angle and _voila_. Your love should be there.”

The three identical men looked at each other in confusion while the Roland one just beamed in satisfaction.

“Excellent my good man! Thanks for your help. And if you see Miss Prado, do tell her we’re worried sick,” he exited the room,”but not to worry too much” and winked at his friends.

They closed the door behind them and retreated with frighteningly predatory gleams in their eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't ever write what goes on in the minds of the four friends neither here nor later if I continue with the story. I hope you can understand that it's just far too disgusting.
> 
> Vocab:  
> "Mierda" = shit  
> "hijo de mala madre" = son of a blasted mother (like son of a b*tch)  
> "entre la silla" = between the chair, so between the chair legs  
> "ya veo" = I see now/I understand  
> "perdon" = sorry  
> "Prado" = meadow or field + it's her last name. Mariana Prado.
> 
> Don't be shy about leaving comments! =3


	3. Indirect introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pasts *BEGIN* to surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Attention to reader: be aware of signs of abuse at end of chapter.

He didn’t even wait for them to step far from the door to back his chair up. A little disheveled lump rolled out from under the table, knees and palms on the floor, when she saw a big hand extended to her.

“You have great tastes” said the lanky man with no smile as he pulled her up. She rolled her eyes but smirked nonetheless.

“Thank you very much for your help sir. _Oh_ and my name is Mariana…”

“Prado” he cut her off trying to straighten her, “like the famous chef I s'pose?”

“ _Si si_  he is my father, but please do not Prado. My real surname is _del Bosque_ ,” she said in a tone he found oddly similar to melancholy.

“And what is your name Mr. Kingsley?” she asked with a little teasing grin looking up at her accomplice.

He blanked at the question and could only look at her confused, but then realized she had been calling him by his last name since that door incident. He had no idea how she knew it. Before he could ask she said “you are my professor TA. Or will be? I am the one coming to your course tomorrow…”

“What??!!” he nearly yelled and stepped back abruptly. There was only one class he taught that was admitting a new student; one that had been recognized as the real _creme de la creme_ of the incoming Freshman class before even arriving, but this **creature** couldn’t be her.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

On Friday afternoon he had been briefed about the newest addition to transfer into his Honors class. A bit last minute, but she "showed promise" according to his colleagues. 

“She’s a real firecracker. I met her myself this morning with Plum to make sure it wasn't just another faculty rumor,” the headmaster had notified him, “we haven’t had anyone from her…background shall we say…come in as a student.”

Kingsley was frowning at that comment, causing the headmaster to shift uncomfortably as he continued, “she _is_ Prado’s daughter, but her situation is a little different from the other daughter we already knew about and even received an application for last year. Now she isn’t exactly here _because_ of Prado and isn't on a need-based scholarship either, but she very well could have been” the headmaster muttered the last part. The comment hardened Kingsley's expression even more into an unattended scowl.

“ _Ahem_. Her family past is a little…tumultuous shall we say. However we don’t quite know what to expect since Prado didn't want to give us a lot of information other than what's known to the public. If it was anyone else we would have pressed him for more but we simply can't. Either way he assured us it's nothing of importance, so what we've been informed about will be in this folder I'll give you. It's mostly the usual official documentation, as you'll see later," he motioned to the folder sitting on the right of his desk.

"She is very proper Kingsley, I promise. In fact I would say she has the manners and demeanor of a princess. But I wanted to warn you in person that she will let you know when she disagrees with something and will fight you about it to the death... that's according to your colleagues.”

He opened a drawer and pulled out a box with cigars, a blade and a lighter.

“Care for one?”

“No, thank ye. Why did you really call me in? I have a kitchen to prep and _kno_ I’m not here because of you wanting to notify me about the transfer of a _pastry pixie,"_ he rolled his rs with a touch of distaste. He never really like the baking section of the university.

"You know better than anyone that my displeasure for rumors doesn’t imply that I ignore them, **_and_** that I would never go easy on her for being Prado's daughter. And as for your opinion, with all due respect sir, ye know I always make my own opinions albeit student or professor,” he grinned, “ye said ye saw that as ma ‘most sincere quality’ the day I started if I recall correctly.”

The headmaster laughed at that and took a big puff of his freshly cut cigar. “Reminiscing back to that day, are we Bog?”

 

The headmaster knew what a fantastic student Bog had been while attending this university and had cared for him like a father. In fact he had been the one to hand him his diploma and listen to his Valedictorian speech the day of graduation, the proudest one present after his mother no doubt. It didn’t have much emotion, but at least he got the audience to laugh a little with his serious face and calm presentation of the mischievous events that happened during the course of the graduating class’ years there.

He hadn’t meant it to be that funny, and sometimes still wondered and hated how people had laughed so hard. He was so self-conscious about it he didn't dare attend the afterparty, not that he wanted to see anyone there anyways. No one of importance would go, only the other bratty students he had the bad luck of having as classmates. And her of course. She was rather different, or so he had originally thought. Her tricks had fooled him, but at least he walked away learning a lesson from her: _never trust anyone_. 

During his years as a student at The Fields he could only be found in the library, the classroom or in the kitchen. After that episode with her, his studies and work ethic only intensified. Despite draining and fatiguing him day in and day out, it nevertheless  still felt like home to him; everyone there knew that and didn't dare question the stellar student otherwise.

His love for the school, for his work and his studies were unparalleled, but his plans hadn’t been to stay at the school at all after graduating. The scholarship offers allowed him to stay for a few more months. His hard work payed off, and he was soon offered a job by the headmaster that was so good that it would have been ridiculous to pass up, even if it did set back his plan a little more.

Being given a position immediately after graduation as a sous chef for the prestigious Dark Forest restaurant was the first step of many for him in the coming years.

He was soon given the liberty to teach the Honors students as well...but in junction with the Honors' nutty professor who had taught him in the past, Mrs. Plum. Of course he hadn't known it _would_ be Plum, the headmaster may have tricked him by not telling him, but fortunately he knew from experience that she never showed up for a whole class period. The double pay was pretty convincing as well, but what he would never tell anyone was how he would have stayed even if it would have been half of a regular one-job pay. The Dark Forest felt like home, and leaving it would mean leaving all his past years' work. If he could help it, he would never do that, even if he had to settle for room and board and no pay. A situation which, frankly, was not likely given the restaurant's success. 

Originally he had a five year plan so he could start up his own little restaurant back home, but it evolved into a passion for work at The Dark Forest he couldn't shake off. He practically lived for the restaurant and breathed for its success. Getting it back into shape since the passing of the old chef, his true teacher, was a challenge but also his one true life goal.

After all he was still young despite his mother's many grieved musings over her thirty-one year old unmarried only son. A son who seemed to have never even really tried to approach the female sex she would argue...His retort every time they spoke changed over the years, the most recent being _"t_ _hirty one isn't old."_

 

“I just want you to be wary. Rumors are one thing, but I’m telling you that she is a very...different girl. A crudely different species of student altogether. In the best way of course after all she _is_ a fabulous cook, and I know you’ll think so as much as I did when I tasted her food for the application spot. But don’t expect her to listen to you just because you’re the professor. She's respectful but was obviously not raised to be as quiet and docile as most of her other female peers…” he continued puffing “Anyways the issue is that she's a bit of a charmer too. A real one, the kind that doesn’t do it purposefully. It's this Latin blood we're not used to here, so don't lose your temper with her for that. She’s also extremely sweet, in fact she kind of reminds me of honey…”

“You know batting eyes and baby face techniques don’t work on me” snorted Kingsley at how ridiculous the headmaster's fatherly warnings were. Did he think he was a teenager?

“Yes, but wits may” he said grinding his teeth, obviously remembering something and immediately feeling uncomfortable, “it’s also important for you to play referee. I know it’s an Honors class so the students there are a bit surer with what they present, in fact they are borderline cocky at times, correct?”

Kingsley nodded and the headmaster continued, “well I'm sure she will be sure of herself as well, but be careful that they don’t pick on her. Trouble is sure to come, especially if she is as blunt with everyone as she was with me," he squirmed again,  "but she is quite small Kingsley, in fact she may not even be taller than…five and half feet?”

“Meters sir.”

“Oh of course… One and a half perhaps? The American system is hard to forget my boy…”

“I will be on the lookout, thank you sir,” he excused himself to shake the headmaster’s hand as they both rose from their chairs. The headmaster gave him the folder with the new student’s scholar information and Kingsley was off.

“Oh and I forgot to mention, she has a very thick accent as well, so try to be patient. You both roll your rs so you may get along in that respect.”

“Anything else?” he sighed as he reopened the door behind him.

“Just don’t underestimate her. She'll surprise you,” he looked out of his window, cigar in mouth, and frowned, "and may even leave you screaming."

__________________________________________________________________________________________

And there she was. Kingsley cursed under his breath over how he let his guard down. The charming, the accent, the small stature, the bluntness, the eyes... The trouble. It had been staring him in the face and caught him as off guard as was expected by the headmaster.

“Bludy hell…” he mumbled as she stared at him with a stunned, yet pained expression on her face.

“I…am sorry? I will leave. Thank you again.” She opened the door and left just as she had promised.

Kingsley stood there a moment, unable to move a muscle with his feet somehow pinned to the carpet beneath him.

It was really her after all. The Spanish firecracker, innocent troublemaker, fairy princess that he had heard so much about. All he had heard seemed about right…but despite it all seeming true everyone was still missing something from their description of her. She seemed modest given her relatively simple clothing, but _that_ wasn’t it…could it be her unearthly appearance?

No that wasn’t it either, after all she mustn’t have really had an abnormal appearance, his mind's lack of caffeine was just playing tricks on him. _Must be her taste in men_.

Unable to determine what it was but convinced it was the last option, he sighed and cracked his neck while heading back to the desk.

He unlocked his computer and stared at the screen for a long time. It hadn't been more than fifteen minutes since she had walked in and out of his life. Although technically she would be walking back in at sunrise tomorrow.

He cursed at himself for how stupid he had been. _Why_ hadn't he looked at the folder when the headmaster gave it to him? _Why_ hadn't he remembered his encounter with him as soon as she entered the room? There weren't a lot of students with accents here, and certainly none as small or as rude or alluring...

 _Alluring?_ he thought. _Don't be stupid Bog, just remember she's a charmer tomorrow. That won't let her off easy._  

He flipped open the folder he had between some other notes and sketches in his large work binder. The lightness of it surprised him and he checked to make sure there weren't any pages missing. The last page before the photos said "4/4". 

 _Odd... The other scholar introductions have ten pages at the very least..._  

The first page had her picture attached, se had a large fake smile and almost mocking eyes. He almost chuckled at how horrible it was but couldn't blame her. The day they took his first picture at the Uni the cameraman had asked him to smile repeatedly. Each time he had simply answered "I **_am_** smiling" until the poor man gave up and let him go with a  far-from-charistmatic-looking ID. 

She was nineteen, and all of the school names she ever attended were in Spanish so none looked familiar. Next to each there was a "public" note next to it in pencil, probably made by the headmaster for himself. That in itself was rather odd, not only because she was Prado's daughter but because no students who went here had gone to public school. They were all too well-off. Bog had been an exception when he was sponsored by the then chef of the Dark Forest who later passed away while he was working there. He was a strict old man that saw his potential when Bog had worked full-time at a local inn the summer he turned twenty. 

Now here was something interesting. Prado wasn't mentioned anywhere in the family history. In fact no one was with the exception of a woman in a small picture with a very young Mariana. She was obviously the mother since she was the only one mentioned as caregiver with the word written on the picture, but her name was covered in white out on the paper.  _Tumultuous family history indeed_ he thought remembering what the headmaster had told him.

Her grades were all written on ten, so _that_ was comprehensible. They weren't very good until her Sophomore year, where they spiked and were all 10s with the occasional but rare 9. Some notes underneath were translated and said "excellent charisma" "great drive and potential" "passion for chemistry" "most energetic in gym class" "role model student" "very studious and takes her work seriously" "initiates debates easily"...

The praises didn't shock him, after all they were normal for Honors students. Except for the  ones on gym excellence and debates, those were a little out of the ordinary. The negatives were also a little shocking for what he was used to: "should attend class more" "either on time or never here" "gets lost in thoughts throughout class"... 

He wondered why there wasn't record of any of her activities in her schools, or past work experiences like a resume or a transcript of the interview for the application. Maybe the Administration let it slide since she was a foreigner, but the work experience was a pre-requisite for anyone. _So she does get special treatment for being a Prado..._ he thought, angry at himself for helping a brat. 

There were pictures of the meals she had made for the application's jury attached to the recipe written in her handwriting and their assessment of each dish, along with something scanned at the end of the folder. It was a blue sheet that read "Hospital Universitario Virgen de la Victoria", with a sticky note attached. The headmaster's handwriting was clear: "Some malnutrition problem they found before she left Malaga." Now that wasn't normal either, especially if she was training to be an aspiring chef. 

Before he could turn the folder's pictures to read the recipes and assessments, he heard the door swing open again. A low chuckle escaped him, expecting to see the four conceited friends' expressions over the absence of a beautiful blonde. But when he turned around, they weren't the ones staring back. 

Mariana was panting from running back up the long flight of library stairs so quickly. She looked pale and frightened, hanging on to the side of the door before entering and closing it briskly behind her. Falling gently to the ground with her back to the door, her eyes shut and as she hit her head repeatedly against the frame.

" _Estupida estupida estupida..._ " she muttered under her now weakened breath.

Bog's protective instinct from before returned at the sight of her. Brat or no brat she didn't look well. Maybe it was because he had just read that sticky note that he grew particularly worried. He went over to her to try and help but she retreated by pushing herself back up on her feet. 

"I am fine. Truly. I was only hoping..." she couldn't finish when she saw the softness in his face.

They were hard and sharp features. Very thin and pronounced, high cheekbones, small tight lips and stubble. _The jaw...it's carved from stone..._ was all she could think.  There was a noble air to him she just couldn't shake off despite herself, one that made her fear him almost as much as Roland before, but his gaze at that moment was different. It was kinder, softer, gentler...one of pity. 

At the realization, she straightened and managed to find her words again.

"I am sorry to intrude again" and reopened the door, but he responded with an unexpectedly frantic: 

"Wait!" She turned her head to look from the corner of her eye.

"Thank you for lying for me Mr Kingsley."

The door shut once more, but this time the library didn't stay quiet. Bog heard Roland's voice pierce through the hallway mere seconds after the door closed.

"Buttercup! We yelled hello and thought you'd run home! Why'd you come back here?," a rush of footsteps passed the study room door. When the paces slowed to a stop down the hallway there was a little yelp of pain and an irritated groan, then some deep snickering. "I guess you really missed me, huh? You're smart for coming back. You know you shouldn't' have run off before" the voice said in a low condescending hiss.

 _That's it._ Bog opened the door to see the triplets seizing her, Roland's hand squeezing her cheeks together with his face pressed against hers. She shifted her head suddenly and spit in his face, forcing him to break the kiss and back away.

" _Cabron baboso..._ **_LET. ME. GO!_** " she screamed and fidgeted.

Even at three they had trouble keeping her still. Roland wiped his face and smiled devilishly. "Remember your place" he said raising his palm to hit her, when a larger one suddenly gripped his wrist with great force and a light crunch. 

"What do you think you're doing?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, hope that wasn't too long dear reader, but it WAS the last chapter of the intro! Well, sort of. Please don't be shy about leaving a comment, whether good or bad. They both help me know what you like to read.  
> Yes Mariana does get feistier after this, there just isn't the chance to see her lash out yet by stopping here. But Roland is...harsher in this AU. I never liked him in the original fairytale story and I felt like in a more real life universe he would be similar to someone like this. I am very sorry in advance if abuse triggers bad memories. I'll change the content rating in a heartbeat if a reader lets me know, but trust me when I say they all get some of their own back.  
> Vocab:  
> "del Bosque" = from the forest + her real family name. This and "Prado" are real last names, I didn't make it up.  
> "estupida" = stupid (feminine form)  
> "Hospital Universitario de la Virgen de Victoria" = University Hospital of the Virgin of Victory + real hospital in Malaga  
> "Cabron baboso" = two tradional Spanish insults in one: Cabron is similar to 'fuckboy' and Baboso is slimy
> 
> Don't be shy about leaving critiques! They help me know what you would like to read more of ;)


	4. Tough and free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get some of the really brave Mariana here <3 As well as the softer side I really liked about her in the story that we forget about sometimes since she's such a warrior princess.   
> Bog is still a protective sweetie even though he hardly knows her and she doesn't really need it (10 points for Bog King chivalry anyways!)

Everyone was still. A little cricket dared chirp in the corner but even it could sense the bubbling tension and abruptly shut up.

Roland’s face revolted in an angry twist. His eyes were shooting daggers at the man holding his wrist prisoner and crushing it helplessly. Bog was standing with his back perfectly straight and shoulders tense, towering over him and returning the daggers with a low menacing rumble in his throat. Somehow Roland still managed to pull off one of his dashingly fake smiles.

“Sir do you mind? That’s my hand.”

“No shit,” they all stared at him, “and this is a library and that’s a girl who doesn’t seem to enjoy your company very much. Wouldn't you agree?” his tone was mocking but his face was livid with anger as he pulled his arm higher.

“Well the disruption's payback for sending us off on a wild goose chase. You sent us to the men’s restrooms instead of to the beautiful blonde..."

“Now now I didn’t say that, remember? I said your love would be there. Didn’t you see something when you followed my instructions?”

“There was nothing there but a mirror!” he cried out, now wincing in pain from the tightened grip on his wrist. 

Mariana looked up at Bog and laughed heartily when she understood the meaning behind the details of the instructions. Everyone stared at her, wondering how she was so calm and why she had stopped fidgeting.

“Jajajajajaja please _please_ ….” she stopped laughing to catch her breath “ahh okay. Bien. So thank you for your help Professor, but ahora you can go.”

The men holding her looked at each other in bewilderment then at Roland, but he just beamed in response.

“You see my man! There’s nothing to worry about. In fact we’ll take this outside, we wouldn’t want to trouble you further.”

Bog tightened his grip and only grew angrier at his cockiness.

“Don’t plan on my lettin' ye gae. Not 'til _she’s_ out of _their_ reach” his accent thickened in anger as he looked at the triplets to motion them to Roland, but something in Mariana’s movement caught his eye instead.

She had her hands pinned being her back by one of the men with her left arm perfectly straight, but the right arm bent. Her shoulder was also cautiously shifting up and down in a shaking motion.She had been doing that since he grabbed Roland’s arm but it was now clearer that two of the friends had changed positions and were holding her by the thrashing feet and hips.

They all seemed distracted by what was going on, so when he looked at her, her right shoulder suddenly stopped moving and a little smile appeared at the corners of her lips, as if to reassure him.

“Sir I can take care of myself. _Creeme_.” Roland scoffed and the friends laughed with him. Bog was frowning by how stupid her words were given the circumstance she found herself in.

“It’s naet a question of that lass, and right now ye frankly don’ seem to be doin' a guid…” his words were interrupted by a howl of agony coming from the man pinning her arms. He let go of her and was grabbing his right side. When he looked at his hands, he saw them tainted in blood.

“Argghhh” he cried out and backed off from her when he saw the red on his hands and staining his white shirt. His identical friends forgot what they were doing and rushed to help him, but in the confusion that ensued, they forgot that they were holding her legs and hips down. Now she was free.

“No you idiots! **_Hold her!_** ” cried Roland in despair.

One of them lunged at her but she kicked him away in time in the stomach. The other jumped on her and toppled her as they both fell to the ground in surprise. Bog almost let go of Roland in horror as the large man engulfed her as they hit on the floor.

“Mari…!” but all he heard was a grunt coming from under the large man as she twisted herself to face him on the floor.

He pinned her arms above her head and had his legs placed on her thighs so that she couldn’t move. looked far too satisfied at the sight. That’s when they all saw the small pocket knife in her right hand stained with blood.  Roland looked far too satisfied at the sight of her helpless state.  The man restraining her smirked and reached for thesmall weapon.

Her eyes simply widened when she saw his intention. She fully arched her back as her chest pressed against his, arms bending slightly as she firmly re-grasped her knife in her right hand and flexed to push herself up as much as she could against his body.

The man was in too much shock over her sudden change in position to notice her clenching fists, so when she punched him in the jaw he rolled off of her surprisingly easily. As she stood back up the one she had kicked in the stomach did as well and he tried to attack her from behind. Reflexively, her elbow shot up and jerked, hitting him hard in the ribcage.

They were all wincing in pain, but none were in as much agony as Roland.

Bog had been tightening his grip in excitement throughout the fight, in far too much wonder over the sudden turn of events to think about knocking out his captive and helping her. _That’s what they were missing in their descriptions…_ was all he could think to himself and smiled without realizing it. His thoughts were interrupted by a whimpering Roland.

“Okay okay you can let me go now,” Bog growled and Roland gulped, “I…I have to help my friends! Yes you don’t want me leaving my men here with you two now would you? Would you? Haha..ha…”

“Ye look like yer gonna piss yer pants **_blondie_** ” Bog snarled with his resurfaced Scottish accent, a sly smile escaping him. He didn’t know if it was because of Roland’s look of a damsel in distress or what he just witnessed.

“Don’t bother” said Mariana, her voice sounding far too exhausted as she pulled something out from a pocket of her worn jeans. It was a handkerchief. She approached the man with a stab wound and gently touched his face.

“I am sorry. You know I did not have a choice” she said coldly.

He looked at her with a snarl and shook her hand away, but his face softened when he saw hers. Her cheeks were flushed a bright pink and her brown eyes had shrunk, on the verge of tears. She moved his hand from the wound and inspected it, tearing the fabric from his dress shirt to get a better look. It wasn’t a large wound at all, not nearly deep enough to make any real damage, but he would need stitches. She told him so and placed the handkerchief at the wound, pressing into it firmly. He winced at the contact.

“Hold there” she said as she grabbed his hand and put it over hers “more pressure, less blood.” Her explanation was clear but he looked dumbfounded. She took her hand from his side and ensured both of his were pressing firmly into the handkerchief before helping him up. He could stand without any problem, but his legs suddenly weakened. When she got him up he wasn’t even looking at his friends…he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.

She led him to the stairwell in front of where Bog and Roland hadn’t moved an inch. Everyone, cricket and all, was staring at them.

“ _ **Help him!**_ ” she barked at the friends who had long since stopped agonizing to see what was happening. They got up and descended the stairs with him, only the one who got kicked and elbowed in the stomach looked up to their blonde damsel friend from the stairwell.

“Um…hey Roland?” he asked in a squeaky voice. Bog stared him down.

“O..okay.” The three disappeared down the spiral stairs and all was quiet once more. Bog huffed.

“So, whaddaya reckon we do with this one?” he chuckled and shook Roland by the arm that hadn’t moved position. “Would you care to finish him off too, tough girl?” She smiled momentarily and looked up at him until Roland interrupted.

“Now now a pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be so reckless. You could have gotten hurt. Or worse, seriously disfigured!” Mariana approached him with her hands on her hips. “Come on Mariana! This is all just a misunderstanding, we were only playin’. It wasn’t anythin’ serious…Hell you should be flattered by all the attention we were givin’ you, my little buttercup.”

The nicknames and his stupidity were giving Bog more of a migraine than he could bear. He gritted his teeth and was about to finish him off when a warm smile spread across her face.

Or so he thought. It was actually  the same smile as the picture from her scholar profile, and he quickly understood. Roland however, didn’t quite get the message.

“Oh. Was my poor baby scared?” she cooed while approaching him. Roland’s hand was still held high in the air but his face was focused on hers now in slight bewilderment. His rehearsed grin reappeared.

“Darlin’ you know I just want to protect you. My beautiful Mari…” he closed his eyes and pursed his lips, awaiting for a kiss. She put two fingers on his lips and shh’d him, pulling his shirt and him towards her, motioning to her accomplice with a raise of the eyebrows.

This time he got it. He let go of the wrist and Roland quickly opened his eyes to see her. 

“You were just playing? Nothing serious then, about the women, or the drunk visits, or meeting behind library past midnight today for… _this_? Nooo just playing…” she said turning him, grabbing on to his shirt more tightly, “it was not my... _personal attention_ you wanted to... _share_ with your friends” she remarked with a raised voice, “was not _insulting_ me" she whispered with clenched teeth, "was not **hurting** me.”

He looked at her unable to understand. The words were clear and cut through like razors even for Bog who had no context, but her "smile" hadn’t faded, and neither had Roland's.

“Oh no no buttercup, you close eyes…”she said as her fingers brushed over his eyes to close them, laid her hands on his chest, his back facing the stairwell.

“Darlin’ you know I do it all because I love you!” his lips ready and waiting.

“Oh yes. And I. Love…” her knuckles cracked behind her as she swung her fist, sending him rolling down the stairs “my liberty.”

The shocked cries that echoed down the staircase were too humorous for her not to laugh at, no matter what had just happened and what was awaiting her when she would have to face him again.

For the moment, the cries and the thought of his momentary disappearance from her life was too good not to enjoy.

"Bye bye!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way I was picturing a spiral staircase, just to hurt the fuckboy a little more :D  
> And the thing with the henchman is a little fluffy, but remember I have a long and complex story in my head and this moment is kind of important. I feel like one of them would fall for Marianne in the real Strange Magic story anyways. Maybe the one that opens his wings during the "Come on Marianne" song?
> 
> Vocab:
> 
> Jaja = haha. Yes that's not a stupid joke  
> Creeme = believe me
> 
> The last things she says to Roland are all things he hurt her with while she was with him. They're in particularly broken English because she is so upset, and instead of "freedom" that makes more sense she uses "liberty" (less used but still) because in Spanish it's "libertad". 
> 
> Be sure to leave comments and/or kudos if you liked or disliked it and enjoy the next/last chapter of Part I!


	5. Trust issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the fight where Mariana doesn't feel too well + end of Part I. (tum tum TUM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a teeny bit angsty I guess, but mostly MAJOR fluff alert.

Bog’s face was lit up by a huge grin. He was never happier about having had an incorrect judgment of someone, an event that rarely occurred. She went from fairy to brat to...a real tough cookie, in record time.

“Well he certainly got what was coming for him” he said basking in the sweet symphony of Roland’s fading cries down the staircase. She smiled back a little nervously as he regained professional composure.

“Mr Kingsley, I…”

“Bog.”

“ _Como_?”

“Ma name is Bog. Bog Kingsley. Ye asked for ma name before and I was rude not to give it to ye. I’m…sorry” he had to look away because this was so unlike him. He regained his composed accent and continued.

“Don’t worry about any of this. I will make sure the headmaster hears of it and they will be punished accordingly,” he assured her, “trust me.”

“I don’t need you to do that,” she retorted. He was shocked, not expecting that as an answer. “Thank you for the offer but it is not…needed” she sighed. Her exhaustion was increasingly obvious.

“Yes it _is_. If not for you for the others on campus. Those four are a menace…”

“Roland is the only menace,” she interrupted, “the other three do what he says because of who he is. I hope they will come to their good judgment tonight...”

He grew angry again. All the good mood he had gained during the fight left him. “Well what do you suggest I do? Pretend like I wasn’t here?”

“ _ **Si**_. I told you I did not need help. You did not listen to me. You saw that I could take care of myself!”

He couldn’t believe his ears, why would she go to such lengths? _There’s that stubbornness…_

“ ** _Stop_**!” he yelled, “I don’t **_bludy_** **_care_** if you can or can’t at this point, I just want him off campus. _**You**_ may be able to live seeing his face but I don’t enjoy parading with the incessant urge of fighting someone on a daily basis if it is not in the kitchen.”

She was rubbing her right shoulder blade and looked at him. Her stare surprised him again but he was getting used to it. How could her little tired eyes still be so piercing?

“I won’t have him hurting anyone. I know perfectly well what they were planning on doing to...to ye. I’m not stupid tough girl.” She winced at the comment and he worried it was because of his nickname.

“I’m sorry lass…the name just slipped for some reason…”

“No no! I like it, truly…” her faded smile reappeared and her eyes brightened. He was so frightening only a moment ago, but now, he just seemed embarrassed. She looked away worried, thinking his awkwardness was because of her stare.

“I…I…just wanted to…say” she tried to voice what she was thinking, all she wanted to tell him, how much she wanted to thank him, let him understand how hard this kind of situation was for someone with as much pride as she. His eyes turned from the ground to her. When she caught his stare she continued.

“You are right. You _do_ know. I know as well…but…”

Her disposition darkened suddenly as she grew somewhat pale again. It was like a cloud appeared over her in the form of bad memories, things she had tried to forget, others had cried over and even more she had forgotten or refused to say.

“ _Estupida estupida estupida…_ ” she muttered.

Bog drew closer trying to approach her without startling her like last time. Little tears were reappearing in her eyes as she reached for her pocket knife.

For a brief moment he thought she was going to aim it at him as a warning, but she just held and stared at it with a shaking hand. Tiny, almost unnoticeable drops rolled down her cheeks as she tried to muster some control over herself. He hunched to be closer to her height, unsure of what else to do. When she turned her face to him she tried to say something but it came out too broken for him to understand.

She headed to the stairwell, gripping the closed pocket knife to her chest before putting it away and holding on to the handrail, when he suddenly laid a large hand on her shoulder. She noticed how the black tattoos on his fingers she was so curious about since the door incident were finally legible at that proximity.

Her sniffles stopped. She was so quiet and still to the point he thought he had hurt her, but she turned her head slightly to reassure him that wasn't the case. His touch was actually quite light, almost as if he were afraid of crushing her.

“You know…uh…”

“Yes?”

“Um. Feel free to, stop by here whenever you’d like. I mean! A'm always here...” he clarified.

“Very boring” she answered. The words surprisingly pierced and hurt him, until she turned around. His arm was still on her shoulder and she was smiling kindly at him.

“It’s a _joke_ Bo…” she bit her tongue, realizing she was unable to pronounce his name and wanting to save herself the embarrassment of trying. A light chuckle escaped her throat. He chuckled as well in response, relieved that she didn’t actually find it “very boring”. She turned to go again.

“Well, I should…” 

“Yes yes of course. Good idea. Sleep well.” She smiled, looking at his arm still on her shoulder. His face grew red and he pulled it behind his neck.

“Sorry…” he shook his head in embarrassment.

“No no. Good night. And…thank you” she said softly.

“See you in the morning tough girl.”

Something snapped inside of him as soon as he said that. _Bog it’s still night, she’s exhausted, she's not well and we don’t know what happened to them…_ His protective instinct returned and he blurted out:

“ _ **Mariana you can’t go**_.”

She turned back around, this time with a touch of displeasure.

“What was that?”

“I meant…ye don't look a'right an' we don’t kno' if they really left. They could be waiting for ye in the hall downstairs for all we kno” his accent reappeared but he didn’t care anymore. Her light laughter eased the tension but the earnestness of concern in his voice made her stop and look down the stairwell. She sighed and looked somewhat defeated.

“I am tired sir. I need to get to my room.”

“Just…stay here for a bit. I’ll walk ye to your hall when I’m done reading some things. Sound good?”

Her face had a pained expression in it, one of sadness and slight anger over her situation. Gripping the railing from below to steady herself she looked at him. She was analyzing every bit of him to make sure he wasn’t saying this, doing this out of pity. He approached the staircase and offered his hand, nonetheless leaving  a good deal of space between them so she didn't feel pressured. The little smile reappeared on the corners of her lips as she took his outstretched hand and let go of the railing. 

Bog smiled at how small and thin her hand was, but was a little stunned by how doubtful it felt to hold his. He self-concisouly knew his hands were very large and they probably felt a little callous to her, but she didn't wince or stray away at the contact like he feared. It felt...different. Like her. It was a good different, one he hadn't ever thought about, or at least not in so much detail. He couldn't believe this was the first time he really held someone's hand. 

Placing her hand in his, she felt his little momentary tremor at her touch, but then realized it had been completely involuntary. In fact she may have been the only one of the two to notice. She didn't understand why he was nervous, but forgot it at the sight how many tattoos were on his fingers and hands that seemed to spread to his arms...and maybe even higher up to his neck if she was seeing correctly. She smiled lightly as she walked up towards him, their eyes fixed on each other.

At the last few steps before reaching him however, her foot abruptly twisted beneath her.

She didn’t even have time to try and extend her free arm to catch herself or yelp in surprise. Bog had descended the last step separating them, grabbed her hand firmly and pulled her whole body to him in a swift protective impulse. When the scare of falling passed, she reopened her eyes and  found herself tugging at his shirt and grappling to it, her head pressed firmly against his chest.

His free hand was pulling her in closely, ensuring him she was alright. They looked at each other and…giggled.

“That was _way_ too close lass” he snickered, still holding her.

“Too close? but you are the one holding me…” she replied befuddled. 

“No no! I mean, yes, yes I am” he said taken aback himself and clearly having trouble registering their intimate proximity, “but I meant too close to having an accident on our hands. A’m sure ye don’t want to see those four at the health center later…”

“Ahhh _ya veo_. You are right, thank you.”

She straightened herself but was still grabbing onto his shirt when she unexpectedly held a hand to her head and made a tiny “ahh” noise. Bog held her back with two hands and lowered himself to her level to take a look at her .

“Are you alright?”

“Yes…I am just a little weak on my feet.” He glared and stared at her in disbelief, _this was how she wanted to walk home alone at night?_

“You’re reckless.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Will you allow me to assist you, tough girl?” he said with a touch mocking gallantry.

"You are making fun of me” she grumbled looking him in the eye.

“At your carelessness,yes. But not at you.”

“I can get there myself…”

“Did you know that if you fainted here, you would end up in a ball of broken bones by the time you reached the end of the stairwell?” She looked behind and gulped lightly.

“There there,” he said patting her hand dramatically, “does M’lady need assistance then?” She frowned but acquiesced, hoping her pride was hiding and wouldn’t bite her in the morning over this incident.

He grew serious again and made her hold on to the hand rail as he lowered himself fully by sitting on the above stair. A puzzled look appeared on her face.

“ _No entiendo_..” she replied innocently surveying him with confused eyes at his height. He looked back at her but blushed lightly, so he looked away so she wouldn't notice.

“Erm. I have to carry you. This is the best way. I’m afraid I can't on my back, it's very sensitive…” She chuckled and reached an arm around his neck for support.

“I did not understand. Your arms were not open Mr Kinsgley!” he sighed at the reaction and took the advice, opening his arms and legs for her to sit on his lap.

She faked a curtsy with a light giggle as he shook his head, trying not to chuckle, before sitting on his knee, her arms wrapped around his neck and legs being holstered up beneath her own knees. He turned them both around and walked back with her in his arms to the study room.

"Try callin' me Bog"  he answered and pushed open the study room door.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

 

He didn't understand why he was doing this, why he was going to such lengths to protect her. He knew all the reasons he had to do so, after all he was older, she was tiny, he was her TA and the one of the most feared professors in the entire faculty, she was obviously no stranger to abuse, he had a duty to help , she was obviously sick and tired, he was tired as well but re-energized by that fight. Not by the violence per say, but by...just seeing her in action. 

She was confident and unafraid. C _learly also careless and stubborn and stupid for being so naive._  He realized neither of them would know what would have happened had he not been there, had not hid her nor held Roland prisoner while she beat the living lights out of the others would have meant Roland would have...could have...

No. He refused to believe it. She would have thrashed harder, fought back with more force and maybe even used the knife on all of them. Her exhaustion would have been much worse though, and he knew that. She obviously knew that as well but didn't want to recognize it. Whatever was ailing her was something she chose to ignore. He frowned at the thought and placed her carefully on the antiquated couch. 

"There you are M'Lady."

" _Muchas gracias caballero_ " she replied placing the back of her hand on her forehead and stretching out dramatically. He shook his head and snorted then went to the desk, cracking his neck again.

"I can help with reading if you like" he heard her say behind him.

"That's out of the question. Why don't you take a wee nap and when I'm done I'll let you know," he didn't really need to answer her since she was already yawning and getting comfortable.

The next time he looked over to her, she was curled up into a rhythmically breathing ball. He couldn't help but smile despite himself, glad the little pixie was with him somehow, knowing that next to him she would be safe. He looked back at her folder now that she was asleep and began to reread it, replaying the conversation he had had with the headmaster in his head. There wasn't a doubt in his mind now, before anything else those rumors said about her, she was tough...And yet also so fragile. It wasn't the fact she was tired, but rather something else, something he didn't know about perhaps?

He wished he could read the one page medical report attached in the folder. The headmaster's note was the only thing legible for him "Some malnutrition problem they found before she left Malaga." _That couldn't be the only thing, could it?_ He sighed defeatedly and went back to his textbook, putting the folder away. The little picture of Mariana and who he had guessed was her mother fell out without his noticing and flew beside the couch.

His focus wouldn't return. His brain told him he was missing a piece if the puzzle from the events that just happened. All he could hear was _she can take of herself she can take care of herself..._ Over and over. He knew that! So why was his brain insisting on it? Was it because he should be feeling guilty for helping her? Is that what it wanted him to admit? 

_Why is she here Bog. She can take care of herself._

His eyes turned back to her. She was so peaceful, so at ease...it seemed as though it was something new to her. As if sleeping was something she wasn't aware could even _be_ pleasant. _She's here because she wants to sleep, but to sleep you need to be relaxed, have comfort, and around people you need to have complete and utter..._

"Trust," he whispered, "she...how...why...she trusts me?"

Mariana sighed in her sleep as a little smile appeared from the corners of her lips through a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for part I !!! Part II is when we enter the cooking realm and things get a little hotter. Yes yes in more than one way. Think emotional and physical burns unfortunately. Mostly background though and we get the character backgrounds a little more. (Potionless alert!)
> 
> Vocab:
> 
> Como = what (in this context)  
> Estupida = stupid  
> Ya veo = I see  
> No entiendo = I don't understand  
> Muchas gracias caballero = thank you very much kind gentleman
> 
> Let me know if you have any prompts you think would be fun to include ^.^ And don't forget to comment or kudos if you're enjoying this AU!


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